


a hand to hold at the edge of hell

by jdphoenix



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s03e10 Maveth, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-14 00:00:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5721994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphoenix/pseuds/jdphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma's been expecting rescue. She hasn't been expecting HYDRA.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a hand to hold at the edge of hell

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "Is that really a gamble you're willing to take?"
> 
> I have more of this universe written (stuff that happens prior to this) but I never got it to the point it was postable. So it's entirely possible I'll be tacking that on to this at some point.

“Is this right?” Will asks.

Jemma tips her head back, eyes blissfully shut. “I don’t- I’m not sure.” She’s only heard about the technique in passing and filed away the information for potential future use, always assuming she’d have the ability to go back and research once it became pertinent. She never anticipated being light years away from medical texts.

“Well, isn’t that something?” He bends low over her so she can feel his next words rumbling over her stomach. “Your Mum doesn’t know everything,” he says in a stage whisper.

There’s a kick at his words and that, combined with the lovely things Will’s hand is doing lower down has her laughing. He presses a kiss to her belly.

“It feels good though?” he asks. “Even if it doesn’t help open things up when the time comes, it should at least feel good.”

“Oh,” a dark voice says, “I’d say she’s enjoying herself.”

Will moves away so fast he leaves Jemma feeling unbalanced. Her heart leaping into her throat doesn’t help matters.

Ward is leaning against one of the walls. Behind him, coming from the tunnels, are several plainly HYDRA soldiers in desert camouflage. One of them is holding Fitz and has a hand pressed firmly over his mouth - which is unnecessary, as he’s staring in stunned silence at her. She sits up quickly, grabbing the blanket off Will’s cot to cover herself.

Ward shoots Fitz a falsely sympathetic pout. “Guess you’re too late, huh? Unless- how long did you say she’s been on this planet?”

“Jemma?” Will asks. He’s positioned himself in front of her, one hand lifted back in a protective motion. He’s asking if she knows what’s going on.

“Oh calm down,” Ward snaps. “We’re here to rescue you - well, _her_ \- among other things.”

Jemma doesn’t imagine those other things are going to be good for anyone. She swings her legs over the side of the cot - _away_ from Ward and his people - and pulls her sweats (taken from one of Will’s long lost men) over her knees before slipping her feet back into her boots.

“You remember,” she asks, twisting her heels to get them properly inside, “how I told you I’d named the tentacle monster after someone deserving of the honor?”

“ _This_ is Grant?” Will asks.

“You named a monster after me? I’m touched,” Ward says, sounding like he means it.

“We eat it,” Will says dryly.

Before Ward can decide how to respond to that (she hopes not murderously), Jemma lets out a whining huff. “Laces,” she sighs. Her stomach’s preventing her from bending to tie them properly.

Will’s used to the demand - he’s used to _all_ of her demands and never once complains, always fulfilling them with a smile on his face - but this time he doesn’t come until Jemma gives him a meaningful look over her shoulder. Reluctantly, he backs away from Ward to kneel down in front of her.

“You can’t beat him,” she breaths while he ties. “He’s highly trained-”

“And unused to the gravity,” he whispers to her knees.

“ _Don’t_.” She rests her hand over his cheek and he leans into it. “I can’t lose you. Promise me.”

He nods and his beard scrapes at the sensitive skin of her palm. “Fitz?” he asks as he shifts over to better tie the other shoe.

She’s been wondering about that part of it, just as she’s been wondering what Ward wants here other than the two of them. She’s been expecting Fitz for months, ever since the day of the sunrise, when another portal opening allowed Will to pass him a care package full of her research. It was Will’s idea to make more messages in bottles. She thought it was just blind hope, desperation to believe their child wouldn’t grow up in this hell. But it worked.

Though not the way they wanted.

“I don’t know,” she says finally as Will stands to help her up. It’s awkward as she has to pull her pants on the rest of the way as well, but they manage.

“If you’re done?” Ward asks.

Jemma crosses her arms under her breasts and steps around the cots. Will carefully keeps himself between the two of them, despite his promise.

“What’s going on?” she asks, looking to Fitz. Ward makes some signal and Fitz is released. He stumbles forward, uncharacteristically reserved after so many months. She knew her … condition would be a surprise if ( _when_ ) someone came for them, but she expected _some_ thing.

It takes him a while to even look at her. Instead he looks at her stomach, at Will, at the cots, even at Ward.

“Fitz?” she asks, hoping to draw him out of it. She startles him instead, which will have to do. It gets him looking at her at least.

“Right. We, uh. Well- I needed HYDRA’s help.” He tells her about the monolith shattering into a million pieces on his return, about searching for months (his eyes drop to her stomach again and he looks like he might be sick) for a way to repair it, about Ward approaching him with an offer. HYDRA, it seems, has a vested interest in reaching this world.

“You should maybe rethink that,” Will says to Ward on the subject of Death being their long lost leader.

“Not my call,” Ward says, “but if this thing’s half as scary as Simmons’ letter made it out to be, I’m thinking it’s the right one.”

Jemma wrote Fitz two letters. One went into each of the care packages she made after discovering she was pregnant. That Ward was allowed to read either is horrifying.

“He needed to know I was telling the truth,” Fitz says, sounding small and ashamed and angry.

“You worked with _HYDRA_?” she demands. “With _him_?” She’s shaking, disgusted that he would go so far.

“And now, so are you,” Ward says calmly. “Fitz has got the calculations done, but we need someone who knows the land to get us to the portal site - and someone who knows the big guy to help bring him along.”

“No,” Will says. “That thing is a monster. You can’t bring it to Earth. It drove my team insane. It killed this _entire planet_.”

Ward lets his eyes draw slowly over the both of them. “You seem to be doing okay,” he says, his lips curling when his eyes land on her stomach.

She rests a hand protectively over it and Will steps more fully in front of her.

“Listen, I don’t think you understand the situation you’re in. I promised Fitz I’d bring Simmons home and I’m gonna keep that promise. It’s up to the two of you whether I do more than that.”

“No,” Will says immediately. He shoots her a quick look, apology plain on his face. “Not a chance. I’m not worth billions of lives. I’m not letting you-”

“I promised him _Simmons_ would make it back,” Ward cuts in, casually lifting his hand to rest on the knife in his belt. “ _Just_ Simmons.”

Jemma feels faint and stumbles back until her knees hit the cot. She sits. Heavily. Will moves to completely block her view of Ward.

“No,” Fitz says. He’s already been grabbed again by that same soldier but isn’t even putting up a fight. “You won’t do it. It’d kill her.”

“Maybe,” Ward says calmly. Jemma can hear the sound of the knife sliding from its sheath. “Or maybe she’ll live long enough to reach the portal, reach real medical care. Then again-” he shrugs- “maybe she won’t. Is that really a gamble you’re willing to make? Because I am.”

The baby’s moving, kicking up a storm. Likely she can feel Jemma’s heart pounding and is angry at the disturbance. She imagines Ward following through on his threat, imagines never feeling that tiny body move again, never seeing her daughter’s - she’s  _certain_ it's a girl - eyes open or hearing her first words or watching her live and grow and learn.

“Yes,” she says and Will’s stiff shoulders soften. He steps back, reaching for her with one hand and she catches it out of the air. “Yes, we’ll help you.”

She can just see Ward’s face around Will’s hip and turns away from his smile.

“You were always the smart one.”

She squeezes Will’s hand and he squeezes right back, no sign of hesitation. He’s on the same page she is. Ward, Death, even Fitz’s betrayal - all of that is secondary. They’ll do what they must, cross whatever lines are necessary. They and their baby will make it home, no matter the cost.

 

**Author's Note:**

> At the start of the fic, Will is attempting to give Jemma a perineal massage, a technique used to prevent tearing during birth. Unfortunately, neither of them really know how it's supposed to work. XD


End file.
